


In The Ground Where We Lie

by Val_Creative



Series: Kinktober/Whumptober/Goretober 2020 [11]
Category: Disney - All Media Types, Disney Princesses, Frozen (Disney Movies)
Genre: Action & Romance, Aphrodisiacs, BAMF Women, Banter, Blood, Canon Rewrite, Crying, Dark, Dark Fairy Tale Elements, Elsa Has Ice Powers (Disney), F/F, Goretober, Gunshot Wounds, Heavy Angst, Incest, Kinktober, Kinktober 2020, Lesbian Elsa (Disney), Mild Gore, Post-Frozen (2013), Protective Anna (Disney), Protective Elsa (Disney), Rough Kissing, Sexual Content, Sieges, Stockings, Temperature Play, Temporary Character Death, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Weapons, Wet & Messy, Whump, Whumptober, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:35:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26960764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Val_Creative/pseuds/Val_Creative
Summary: The Duke of Weselton and his new army invades Arendelle's palace. Elsa and Anna must fight.
Relationships: Anna/Elsa (Disney)
Series: Kinktober/Whumptober/Goretober 2020 [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949473
Comments: 10
Kudos: 26
Collections: Kinktober 2020, Octobercest 2020!, Whumptober 2020





	In The Ground Where We Lie

**Author's Note:**

> HELLO. HI. I LOVE ELSA AND ANNA. PLEASE ENJOY THIS. ANY THOUGHTS WELCOMED. 💙💙💙 I had Anna being the one who wrote "The Snow Queen" fairy tale in their universe (which is what Frozen was actually for real inspired by in our universe) so I dropped real lines out of it. I wanted the most Elsa-like ones. Also the title is inspired by a line out of the real fairy tale.

*

_"You must attend to the commencement of this story, for when we get to the end we shall know more than we do now—"_

Anna's voice twirls in and out of Elsa's consciousness. Floating like a gentle snowfall.

She relaxes, curling her legs and dozing with her head in Anna's lap.

Wind howls against the palace's stronghold. A blinding icestorm engulfed the lower town, rattling Arendelle's doorjambs and window-shutters.

Elsa seems soothed by it, not fearful.

 _"—till at last it became the figure of a woman, dressed in garments of white gauze—"_ Anna murmurs, her pinky finger tracing the tip of Elsa's nose, _"—She was fair and beautiful, but made of ice—shining and glittering ice,_ " a hush-sweet warmth to kindle Elsa, " _Still she was alive and her eyes sparkled like bright stars, but there was neither peace nor rest in their glance—"_

Elsa hums aloud in thoughtfulness. Within the candlelight, she glimpses Anna's dimpled smile.

"Did you write about true love, Anna?"

It's no more than a plum leather-bound tome resting by Anna's stocking-foot.

Elsa runs her hand over the wool, up to Anna's delicately shaped calf, and to where Anna's skin peeks from her roseate-bright skirts.

She hears a soft laugh escape Anna.

"Of course I did," Anna trills. There's a hint of lordliness and enthusiasm in her words. "Certainly I'm not as experienced of a writer like the greats. But I thought about the library books I would keep company with and how much fun it was to read them." Elsa nods solemnly, her heart twinging with guilt. She shouldn't have isolated her sister. "I wanted to tell a story. One day."

"A story inspired by our lives and what happened," Elsa points out, the corner of her mouth lowering, "where I am the _villain_."

"It's not _you_ you."

Elsa rolls her head on Anna's lap and pretends to blink in surprise, widening open her mouth.

Anna's laughter reverberates the bedchamber. Dark tapestries and shadows flicker in candle's light.

"You even have Kai and Gerda as the main characters, Anna."

"But," Anna corrects her, leaning over Elsa to nudge aside their teacups. "His name is _Kay_ in this, silly."

"Nevertheless…"

She feels lighter from sipping the herbal brew.

Dark specks from the kayak root and red poppies bobbing in golden honey-infused liquid. Cinnamon. Sugared fruit rind and vanilla bean.

Elsa tantalizes her tastebuds by it drinking deep.

Anna's lips slide swollen and bitten rosy red to Elsa's temple. 

They're glossy from the syrupy, heavy icing on creamcakes she and Anna spirited out of the kitchens. Elsa cups the side of Anna's head, bringing her down and kissing her. Sucking the deliciousness off Anna's skin.

Elsa's fingers nestle in Anna's hair the color of sunglow on autumn wheat.

It's not quite the right angle for kissing. Elsa gathers herself up, grinning and basking in the sensation of Anna's mouth to hers. Anna's tongue plunges in, pushing against Elsa's wet tongue. Perhaps they shouldn't. Perhaps they should _forever and ever_.

Elsa kneels up, spurred on by Anna's fingers grinding through her dress. Rubbing on her. She does the same to Anna, feeling for her mound and digging her palm-heel in. Keeping her edging on the vanguard of pleasure.

Winter-frost blossoms on Anna's underwear.

"S'rry," Elsa whispers, pulling away bashfully when Anna lets out a soft, shuddery breath.

"Mm'okay… _mm_ …" Anna gives her a coquettish, if not drowsy, look. "Feels good…"

She questions if they're drunk on golden herbal brew or true love.

(Or both.)

Elsa shifts Anna's other hand between Anna's legs, urging beneath her clothes. Urging her to touch _herself_ in front of Elsa.

Anna doesn't protest, keening and rocking on her own fingers filling her. Her cheeks stained pink. Elsa contrasts the warmth with her own cold fingers rucking up Anna's lilac-colored camisole, groping for a breast and listening to a squealing hiss.

That's when they hear the men shouting outside.

"What is that?" Anna mumbles.

Elsa shakes her head. Her heart thuds like a war-drum.

"Anna, wait for me here," she says firmly.

_"No—"_

Anna climbs to her feet as Elsa vanishes into the hall. Two or three of Arendelle's guards charge forward, protecting her, holding out longswords. They parry their enemies adorned in gilded shoulder-caps and long burgundy coats.

An enemy-general spots Elsa, gesturing towards her and smirking.

Elsa sidesteps a crossbow's bolt flying in her direction.

She gasps. Her silvery bangs flutter.

_What is this?_

_Who are these men?_

_Who has invaded the palace — their home — in the middle of this storm and what do they want?_

More bolts catapult free.

She defends herself, lifting an arm gracefully, creating a huge and thick wall of ice.

"NO PRISONERS!"

"That—we can agree on—!" Anna hollers. She ducks behind a suit of armor, having secreted through another bedchamber's door, tossing one of the helms full-force into a soldier's menacing face. He goes down painfully hard, yelping.

"Anna! Anna, go back!" Elsa cries, summoning her powers and knocking out her assailant attempting to grab Elsa's braid.

She watches him fall onto a patch of magically dense ice, getting pelted with snow-encrusted icicles, and three more of the burgundy-clad men falling with him. Their skulls make a harsh cracking noise upon impact.

Runny blood glistens on the ice.

_How could this happen?_

Elsa hears a rifle crack, setting off and igniting. She can smell the gunpowder.

Anna flies backwards, landing noiselessly. A glare of red on lilac fabric.

 _No_ —Elsa gawks helplessly as the other woman writhes in the hall and clutches her stomach-wound.

She doesn't even first notice the Duke of Weselton emerging from the crowd of men. He happily pats the arm of the rifle-man.

"Take her," he commands in his horrid, nasally voice.

Elsa finds herself kneeling once more, struggling against the grasp of two, burly Weselton soldiers. Her head forced to bow.

"We meet again, my Queen."

"You…"

"I am terribly sorry to be doing this under the circumstances, but alas…" the Duke says, sniffing importantly. He curls a lip down to a grey-faced Anna wheezing quietly for air. Reddish gore exposes and heaves. "You have left me with no choice."

"Please," Elsa begs. "Leave us. We will do as you ask."

"If only that were true…"

Anna murmurs out Elsa's name, as if reassuring her, and Elsa cannot help but sob. Tears flood out of her eyes.

"It seems your dear sister is running out of time." He clucks his tongue. "What a pity. Such a comely girl." Elsa doesn't look away from Anna slowly dying as the Duke stands over Elsa, smiling wickedly. "What are you prepared to do to save her? Hmm?"

After an infuriatingly long moment, Elsa's blue eyes turn to him. Her tears harden into dribbles of visible, crystallized ice.

"… I love her," she whispers. "You don't understand _what I am capable of_ when it comes to Anna."

A haughty and knee-slapping laugh from the Duke.

"Your defiance is charming, Queen Elsa. Truly. But I'm afraid you will do nothing."

The rifle fires.

Elsa hardly senses the low, thunderous scream escaping her as Anna's body quivers. Her scarlet blood sprays into the air.

The rifleman grunts, alarmed by how his hands lose their circulation. Flushing blue and numbing.

The whites of Elsa's eyes roll into view, shimmering silver.

She can feel the very bones inside the rifleman brittling, thinning, and every molecule of him freezing. With a flick of her wrist, Elsa blows a strong snowy wind to the crowd of men. One of them careens, his neck snapped.

The enemy-general grabs onto a bewildered Duke, herding him away.

She thrusts her arm out, blowing more raging and snowy winds until her enemies skid on their heels.

The rifleman finally hits the palace wall, _shattering_ into hundreds of frozen, meaty pieces.

Men witness this, vomiting and bellowing and shivering while glancing nervously into Elsa's lifeless face.

Elsa raises her next hand and they abandon their invasion to run away. To call for help.

_None of them become prisoners._

"Anna," Elsa breathes.

She hunches down and gently sweeps the backs of her crooked, icicle-jeweled fingers to Anna's forehead.

"Wait for me here, Anna."

Deep within her sister's corpse, Elsa senses a pulsing resurrection-light. Fluttering like warmth.

She won't let it go.

*

**Author's Note:**

> Kinktober 2020 prompt(s): **Temperature Play, Stockings**  
>  Whumptober 2020 prompt(s): **Defiance, Struggling, Crying**  
>  Goretober 2020 prompt(s): **Gunshot wound**


End file.
